Beer Bottles and Broken Hearts
by Mootycakes
Summary: Eric Cartman likes to believe he is immune to having any negative feelings. When Stan causes a rift between himself and Kyle, he learns how wrong he is and just how vulnerable he can be. Cartman's POV! Kyman! Sad! Two Parts! Warnings listed inside.


**Warnings: Yaoi and language, implied non-con. **

**As usual, the boys are around 17 or so in this fic. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own South Park.**

**Beer Bottles and Broken Hearts: Part 1**

**by Mootycakes**

Throughout my entire life everyone has accused me of being a heartless sociopath; someone who only cares for himself and does nothing for anyone's benefit but my own. For years, that was something I even believed myself. As usual, it was Kyle who proved me and everyone else wrong. He found my heart; he fucking broke it, too.

I remember every agonizing detail. It was an out of body experience I guess. I've never had one, but it was like what I've heard described before. It was almost as if I wasn't there. I really fucking wish I hadn't been there. I've never felt so much dread in my life. I'm not used to feeling shame, anxiety, shock, depression, any of those weak emotions. I was bombarded by them all at once.

I was supposed to be heartless and uncaring. I was never supposed to feel my heart drop into the pit of my stomach like it did, making me very aware of its cruel existence. I've gone through so much traumatic shit in my life, but none of it ever left me feeling broken, not like this. I didn't know what to do. I've never been speechless before either; I was then. I should have known something was going on when he walked into my room with that look on his face. He never looks fucking guilty, not like that. I never knew any words that could cut that deep. I took a deep breath before letting the scene replay in my head for what feels like the hundredth time since it happened yesterday.

_I look up from my essay to see my boyfriend walking into my bedroom. I smirked at him. "Can't get enough of me? Eh, Jew?" I asked. "I thought you were hanging out with the faggy hippie today."_

_Kyle just stared at me from the doorway, not laughing or arguing with me, not answering my question. I quirked my eyebrow at him and stared back. "What's going on? You're acting really fucking weird," I stated._

_He frowned at me and wrung his hands. "We need to talk," he said softly, unsure, before crossing the room and sitting on my bed. _

That's when I started feeling the dread. It felt like indigestion, except my stomach had never been that upset before. At least, it hasn't been that bad since I stopped eating junk food. I groaned and shook my head. Kenny told me to stop torturing myself like this, but I can't fucking help it. Maybe I'm a masochist, too. Just another mark to check on the list of shit that's wrong with me. It's no wonder I'm alone. I look towards my bed before closing my eyes and continuing.

_I gulped and turned in my chair to face him, wondering what I did wrong this time. My goody-goody boyfriend was always getting angry at me for my "bad behavior." I wondered why he looked so fucking upset though. He knows I never do anything that wrong anymore. I waited for him to continue, but it looked like he couldn't come up with the words. It was so weird; I've never seen him unable to come up with something to say to me, especially if I was in the wrong. _

_He hugged himself with his arms and shuffled his legs a bit before making eye contact with me. The sick feeling in my gut intensified. I waited for what felt like hours for him to finally speak. "I made a mistake," he whispered._

_"What?" I asked him, staring incredulously at my Jew. He hates admitting his mistakes to me, always has and always will. "What are you talking about?" What fucking game is he playing?_

_I watched his eyes roam around the room, avoiding my gaze, like he's trapped in a cage and trying to discover some way to escape it. I uncrossed my arms from my chest and gripped the arms of my chair instead. He's making me nervous. I don't fucking like this shit. He turns to look out the window before whispering something I don't hear. I asked him to repeat himself._

_He looked at his lap and started wringing his hands again before making eye contact with me. "I said, I cheated on you," he whispered._

That was the moment I felt time stop. My heart ceased to beat and I think I truly understood for once what some of what my victims felt when they were caught in my malicious plans. No, this doesn't mean I'm going to change, turn over a new leaf and start over as someone new, someone good. I wouldn't be myself if I did that. I smirk before frowning. I just promise myself that I'll never feel like this again though. I move to lay back on my bed, next to my sleeping friend, before allowing the final part to replay itself again.

_I cheated on you. The words echoed in my head and the pit in my chest grew deeper. I have been insulted countless times by the idiots in this town, but never have four words cut me this deeply. I didn't want to believe it. My mouth dropped open. I tried to form some sarcastic remark, but nothing came to me. "Please say something to me," Kyle begged. "It was a mistake, a stupid drunken mistake, and I really fucking regret it."_

_I took a shuddering breath and glared at him. I barely managed to pull myself together. "Get out," I said, it only came out as a whisper. _

_"But, Eric," he started."I never wanted to."_

_"Get out!" I yelled at him, standing up, refusing to hear more. I grabbed the picture of us at Stark's Pond off my desk and threw it towards him. It hit the wall behind him and he flinched. The glass shattered and the picture fell out of its frame. "I never want to see you again," I said as calmly and seriously I could. I could feel my face redden. Fuck! I am not going to cry over this fucking asshole. _

_"Fuck you!" Kyle yelled at me. "You always do this! You never give me a chance to explain when something goes wrong. You're such a selfish prick! I can't stand this fucking bullshit!" _

_My control snapped. I stood up and approached him. "I'm a selfish prick?" I asked him, my voice a deadly whisper. He rose to his feet and stared at me, a frown and tears marring his beautiful face. "I fucking hate you."_

_Kyle gasped. "Please don't say that! It didn't mean anything," he begged and pleaded. "If I could undo it I would. I'd never have even gone over there!"_

_"Then you shouldn't have fucking done it!" I screamed in his face. He flinched and I continued. "I don't want to hear any of your fucking excuses. Get away from me you stupid fucking kike!" _

_He slapped me and ran crying from my bedroom. I touched my cheek. I knew that would get rid of him. I haven't called him anything that hateful in years. Not since I fell...I shook my head and stopped that train of thought. I allowed my rage to consume me. I think I blacked out._

The next few minutes were a blur. I remember screaming and destroying my bedroom. It was a whirlwind of devastation. I stopped after noticing my reflection in the mirror and seeing tear tracks down my face. I think that was when I realized how broken things were, how broken I was. I recall dropping to my knees and beating the ground with my fists before dragging myself to bed and passing out.

I remember waking a couple hours later with dried tears on my cheeks and my phone ringing in my pants. Kenny. I ignored the call and looked around my room. Nothing was out of place. I had thought everything had been just some fucked up dream when I noticed a note from my mom on my end table and the remains of the photo I threw underneath it. Of course it wasn't a dream. I'm never that fucking lucky. I sighed and thought about the rest of yesterday.

_I picked up the letter and read it. 'I heard you yelling earlier. I know you were upset at something sweetie, but please try not to destroy your room again. I cleaned up everything and left you some dinner in the fridge. I'm going to be gone for a few days this time, but I'll see you when I get home. Mommy loves you, Poopsikins!'_

_I rolled my eyes and dropped the letter before picking up the picture. It made my chest ache to look at it. I scowled and crushed the photo. I threw it and stormed out of my room. I was halfway to the front door when I heard someone pounding on it. I glared and answered it. Kenny again._

_"What do you want, poor boy?" I asked him. "I'm not exactly in the mood to talk."_

_"I know," he started, giving me a fucking pitying look. "Kyle called me after you guys fought and we've been talking. He told me what happened. I know you probably don't want to think about this shit, but it's not good to bottle it up. Besides, I brought you something to take the edge off." He shoves a grocery bag in my hand that contained a bottle of tequila, table salt, and limes. "You've got shot glasses right?" _

_I rolled my eyes at him before opening the door and letting him inside. _

The rest of the night was a hazy mess. I still feel fucking drunk. I look to my left and see Kenny still sleeping in my bed, next to me, Kyle's usual spot. I feel tears collecting at the corners of my eyes and I just let them fall. I don't fucking care anymore. I'm crying, so fucking what? I think about what I did after the liquor started flowing, the stupid shit I said. I'm such an idiot.

_"I just don't get why he'd do it," I slurred at my blond friend. "He told me he's never once looked at Marsh that way and I've seen enough of them together to know he wasn't lying to me."_

_"Well, that's why you should give him a chance to explain," Kenny explained while placing his hand on my knee and giving it a squeeze. "He told me that he was really drunk and he never wanted it to progress like it did. He didn't want to give me all the details though."_

_"Do you fucking think I want to hear those details?" I asked him. He's fucking retarded if he thinks I want to hear about that stupid hippie feeling up my boyfriend. I almost dropped my glass when I realized that he's probably just my ex now. I ran my free hand through my hair and sighed. "I don't know what to do. I can't stop thinking about it."_

_"Give him another chance," he pleaded. "At least give him a chance to tell you the whole story. He said Stan was having problems with Wendy, but he wouldn't say what those were. Not that them having issues is anything new. He told me that they were both drinking and you know how much of a lightweight Kyle is. He said he was close to passing out and then Stan started kissing him. He wouldn't say anything more than that. He told me he was devastated when you refused to let him explain. Then, you called him a kike? I know you were pissed, but, fuck dude, that was uncalled for."_

_I frowned at him."I don't want to hear this, Kenny. I don't give a fuck," I told him._

_"That's fucking bullshit and you know it!" the blond yelled. "You give more fucks about him than anything else. It's not like he instigated it, and I know you didn't stop loving him, or you wouldn't be this upset."_

_I grabbed his collar and brought him close to me. "Shut up, or I swear I will fucking kill you!" I threatened him and he paled. "Don't think I've forgotten about that 'special gift' you have."_

_"Fine," Kenny grumbled, before grabbing my hands and removing them from his shirt. He relaxed back into the couch. "You still need to talk to him though. I'll shut up about it tonight, but I'm going to nag the shit out of you tomorrow."_

_"Whatever," I sighed. I took a few more swigs of my drink. _

_"Alright then!" The blond exclaimed. "Now lets down the rest of this tequila and get your mind off of this shit!" _

That's all I can recall about yesterday. Somehow we made it up the stairs and into my bed. I woke up today cuddling him to my chest. I've never felt anything like this emptiness. I've never missed someone so much and be furious with them at the same time. I want to see him, but again I don't. It's so bizarre. I briefly wonder if this is what Marsh goes through every time him and she-hippie have a fight. I shudder in revulsion. Fuck this and fuck them.

My phone goes off and I don't have to check to know it's Kyle. I let the ringtone play in full. It ends and starts over a few seconds later. I guess he's going to keep calling until I answer. I stare at his photo on my phone, the one I set to my wallpaper months ago. I don't know why I'm torturing myself like this. The song starts for a third time before Kenny wakes up.

"Are you going to answer that?" he asks groggily. I give him a blank look before handing my phone to him and rolling over. "I'll take that as a no then. Alright, I'll answer it."

The song starts again and Kenny answers. "Hey, dude," he starts before getting off the bed. "Yeah, he handed the phone to me. I don't think he's in the mood to talk." Kenny leaves the room and shuts the door so I can't hear the rest of his half of their conversation.

This situation shouldn't bother me as much as it does; it hurts and I can't come to terms with it. Physical pain I understand, even mental anguish, but this emotional agony is not something I can comprehend. I shake my head and zone out for awhile. The next thing I notice is Kenny shaking my arm and asking me if I plan on getting my fat ass out of bed. I shrug. "I wasn't planning on it," I tell him.

He rolls his eyes at me and sighs. "I told Kyle that you didn't want to talk, but he kept begging to see you so I told him to come over in like an hour. So get your ass in the shower and clean yourself up," Kenny tells me. "If you really want him to think you don't care about him, you can't just lay around and mope in bed. He'll know you're hurting just as bad as he is right now." I know he said the last bit to get me to listen.

"Like I said before, Kenny," I started to reply. "I don't give a fuck." He just huffed in response and pushed me towards my bathroom.

I didn't pay attention to Kenny's muffled reply after I slammed the bathroom door in his face. I went through the motions of showering and grooming myself, letting myself run on automatic as I considered what I'd say to Kyle. I wondered if I should even give him the chance to speak to me. I sighed. Maybe all those assholes were right when they said we'd never make it together. Fuck. I'm going to get my revenge sooner or later though. No one fucks with me and gets away with it.

I was feeling slightly better by the time I finished. I walked back into my room, naked, while toweling my hair dry. Kenny wolf whistled at me from his perch on my bed. He smirked and made eyes at me, checking me out shamelessly. "Damn, Cartman," he chuckled. "When did you get so fine? If I wasn't interested in the ladies, I'd want a piece of your hot ass!" He winked at me.

I blushed and threw one of my text books at him. "Shut up Kenny! You know that shit isn't funny," I muttered.

"Aw!" Kenny whined. "I'm only fucking with you. Well, you are hot, but anyway I'm just trying to cheer you up. Besides, I'm sure things will all work out. It's probably some sort of misunderstanding or something." He smiled and continued. "There's no way Kyle would ever give you up to be with Stan."

"I'm not so sure about that," I said under my breath while searching through my closet for something to wear. Sometimes I question why he wanted to be with me in the first place. I pulled on my nicest pair of jeans before grabbing one of the t-shirts Kyle hates. As a finishing touch, I put on my Swastica necklace. That's bound to get a rise out of him. "What do you think?" I asked my friend.

"He's going to be pissed off, but at least you look good," Kenny laughed. "So, do you want me to be the mediator, or do you want me to head out? I'm only going to leave if you can promise me you won't beat the shit out of each other."

I glared at him. He knows I wouldn't hit him back. I never have; not since we were kids at least. "Alright," he said and stood up. "If you don't need me here then I'm going to have a talk with Stan and get his side of things."

"Be sure to tell the hippie that I'm going to rip his dick off the next time he shows his face around me," I stated.

Kenny sighed and nodded. "I'll be sure to pass along the message," he told me before leaving my room.

I tensed when I heard the doorbell ring. I forced a neutral expression on my face and moved down the stairs. When I reached the bottom I saw Kenny hugging Kyle and heard him wish my redhead luck. I don't see how luck is going to help him here. He better have a damn good explanation for what he did. I watched Kenny take his leave. Kyle shut the door behind him before turning to face me.

I looked at him, letting disinterest show on my face. He shuffled around awkwardly before motioning to the couch and sitting down. I sighed and joined him. "I'm sorry, Eric," Kyle started. I couldn't keep the surprise off my face and he took the opportunity to continue. "I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am about all of this. I never wanted to do anything with Stan."

I held up my hand to stop him. "Then why did you do it?" I asked. "Why?" I slumped back into the couch and looked away from Kyle. He muttered something about being drunk and I snapped at him. "That's not a fucking excuse!" I yelled.

"Then give me a chance to tell you everything!" He exclaimed. "Without interruptions, okay?" I nodded and he continued, not wanting to hear any of this, but needing to at the same time. "Stan invited me over because he wanted to talk about Wendy. He told me that they've been having some issues in bed, something about not being compatible enough. That's when he started drinking. I turned him down at first, but he kept offering so I eventually gave in and drank with him. He was saying stuff about how he shouldn't be having any issues with Wendy and how he wanted things to just be easier. He was a mess and I didn't know what to say. I've never had to really deal with those kinds of problems. I get so uncomfortable when he drinks that much, but I didn't want to leave him alone. I was worried about him. I didn't know what else to do; so I stayed and we kept drinking."

Kyle looked at me sadly before leaning forward and resting his head in his hands. He tensed and tugged on his curls before continuing. "He kept muttering about being confused and he wouldn't elaborate. He said he couldn't talk to Wendy about it. I told him that he should be able to talk to his partner about this stuff and that's probably where their problems were coming from, but he argued that she'd leave him if he told her what he was thinking."

I stared at his back, yearning for him to get to the point. I felt impatient. I'm anticipating him saying something that will make everything worse than it already is. I fucking hate this. "I guess I should have known what was going on," Kyle sighed. "I feel like such a shit about it. It's bad enough that he's never approved of our relationship, but this was a low blow. I apparently can't be a good enough friend to him while I'm your boyfriend. It's bullshit!"

"Just finish your story, Jew," I told him. He turned his head towards me and had a resigned look on his face. He looked as bad on the outside as I probably feel right now. The thought makes me feel a slightly better, but not much. "I already know whatever you say is going to piss me off so you might as well get it over with. I'm tired of waiting."

"I was drunk. We were both drunk," Kyle continued. "I don't remember much of it, but he groped my leg and pulled me to him. He started kissing me and I didn't stop him. I was really out of it. I felt sick, and when I did realize what was going on I tried to push him away. He just kept going. I don't know what happened after that. I passed out."

My redhead started crying softly. I pulled him towards me and let him sob. Kyle held onto me like a lifeline; like I was going to disappear if he even thought about letting go. "You shouldn't have said you cheated," I muttered upset. "That shit really fucking hurt. You weren't unfaithful; you're just too fucking nice and you were taken advantage of. I'm going to kill that fucking hippie the next time I see him."

"I really don't want to ever talk about him or this ever again," Kyle pleaded. "I'm never going to forgive him and I'll never have anything to do with him after this. Just let it go. I don't want to lose you too because you had to take some fucked up revenge."

I wasn't sure what to say. I continued holding him while he cried. I didn't feel much better after his confession. I was angry instead of depressed now and I still couldn't shake a feeling of dread. I asked my boyfriend if anything else happened and felt him tense beside me. "Just fucking tell me," I told him tiredly. "It couldn't get much worse than it already is now."

Kyle looked up at me and fresh sobs leaked from his throat. "You'll never want me again if you know," he cried. I hugged him closer, pulling him completely into my lap, before urging him to continue. "My clothes were ripped when I woke up. I was sore and dirty. I'm still soiled. I don't know what he did to me. He was supposed to be my best friend and he...he fucking tainted me!"

The redhead wailed harder and I squeezed him tighter in return. Marsh is a complete fuck up, an alcoholic piece of shit, but I couldn't believe he'd do this. He's never screwed up this badly before. I'm going to ruin his life. I will fuck everything up for him. No one fucks with me like this and gets away with it. I zoned out, dreaming about what I could do for revenge, and eventually I cleared my head. Kyle had fallen asleep crying. I sighed and lifted the smaller teen too easily.

I carried him to my bedroom and laid him on my bed. I changed his clothes, wincing at some of the bruises I saw on his hips and along his sides. The bastard is very fucking lucky Kyle doesn't want him dead. Normally I wouldn't care, but I don't want to stress him more after everything that's happened. This is too close to what I see my mother go through on a daily basis. I never fully realized the depth of emotions I felt for him before now. I make a silent promise that he'll never suffer like this again.

I sighed and finished tucking him before pacing around my room. I found the crumpled photo from earlier and tried flattening it out before moving to sit back on the bedside, muttering quiet apologies for yesterday to Kyle's sleeping form. I debated on whether or not to call Kenny, but I decided against it. I feel fucking exhausted and hung over and all I really want to do is sleep and pretend like none of this bullshit happened. Even though I've only been up for a few hours, it feels like I've been awake for days. I took off my jeans before crawling into bed and curling up next to Kyle. In the end, I think we'll be okay. We'll just deal with everything once we wake up.

**Author's Note: I've been working on this story for awhile now and I hope you guys enjoy it. I've left it open ended for now, but plan on adding a second part soon. I was planning on making this just a one shot, but I felt like this has a clean ending at this point and wanted to post what I've done so far. Let me know what you think! Reviews are the best thing since sliced bread! **


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